


do you really talk to god? i wonder what he tells you

by marsandhispride



Series: high school au [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, Hurt/Comfort, Morality | Patton Sanders-centric, Other, Religious Discussion, i know it looks like it but patton does not have a crush on roman, it isnt pretty, like brothers almost, patton comes out, theyre just incredibly close friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:35:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25427770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marsandhispride/pseuds/marsandhispride
Summary: “I never did understand this part.” Patton spoke, talking to nobody, or maybe he was talking to everyone. He didn’t know. He just knew he had to address somebody. “I don’t really like it.” He whispered.
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: high school au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1841821
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	do you really talk to god? i wonder what he tells you

**Author's Note:**

> patton talks about god a lot so be prepared for religious talk !

The cold night air had a personal vendetta against him, Patton was sure. He sucked in and brought a hand up to his throat as it burned. His spit was thick but he swallowed it just to have some kind of liquid aid his aching throat. His head pounded in beat to his heart and he couldn’t say he enjoyed the feeling. A gust of wind sent a shiver down his spine. 

Maybe it wasn’t logical to be sitting on his roof in the middle of a cold October night but Patton couldn’t seem to bring himself down to his room. Despite the less than ideal weather, the night calmed him. The stars weren’t bright and he knew there were too few to make up a whole night sky but he could see more than usual. No porch lights polluted the sky, everything was asleep; husbands and wives slept in their beds, their kids doing the same, and Patton sat awake but he was as quiet as the people below him, save for a sniffle here and there but he’s sure somebody was snoring loudly enough to make up for the noise. 

And Patton couldn’t sleep anyway. Too many emotions ran through his heart and spread themselves through his veins like a disease until he acknowledged their presence. And once they were known, the tears were to be expected. These emotions were not new. They were an old thing that had made themselves a home in Patton’s body, even though he had made it clear they weren’t invited; he didn’t want to be a house, he didn’t want to be an occupied space. But once they had moved in it wasn’t as if Patton could totally ignore them. On most days he did, but they had always loved the night anyway. 

So Patton sat on his roof. He was messy and snot faced and the tear streaks on his face were only beginning to dry. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his folded arms on top. His chin was placed on his forearms and his gaze found its way to the sky. 

“I never did understand this part.” Patton spoke, talking to nobody, or maybe he was talking to everyone. He didn’t know. He just knew he had to address somebody. “I don’t really like it.” He whispered.

“Is there a reason you stuck me here with them?” His eyes searched for a figure maybe made of stars. “You’re known for being kind but I don’t see how this is fair.” 

A pause as if waiting for a response. 

“You’ve never been a talker.” He mumbled. God didn’t really like answering Patton’s questions. He thought maybe he did answer his curiosity in little ways, in the people Patton surrounded himself with, in ways Patton couldn’t really describe. He let out a sigh. 

“I hope you’re right in the end. I never have been a fan of sad endings,” He lowered his gaze to his small town’s skyline, “Though, Virgil has always told me a sad ending is necessary sometimes. But is that how my story ends?” By the time he asked the question his voice had gone almost completely quiet. 

“I don’t know what to do. How do I know what’s right? How do I work up the courage to say who I am? Confidence has never been my strong suit.” The sky never opened its mouth to respond. Patton knew God would never speak to him in such an obvious way. “How am I supposed to proclaim who I am when I still don’t know fully who that is?” In the quiet of the night, Patton realized with a start who he needed to be talking to. Because even though it was nearly three in the morning, he knew he could talk to him, knew he would be willing to have Patton pick him up, drive his truck to the park by their houses and would sit with him until he felt better. 

Roman maybe said yes to things too easily. Or maybe he just said yes to Patton too easily. Patton couldn’t find it in himself to reassure him it was ok if he said no, because despite his efforts, Patton was not a selfless person. One could argue that he was selfish and he would agree: hesitant, reluctant. But he couldn’t help it. Roman was a constant in his life, he kept him grounded and safe. He knew just what to say when Patton wasn’t feeling well, he knew when to push, he knew when he needed a hug. He knew Patton in ways Patton didn’t even know himself. Patton always thought Roman may have been a guardian angel. He doesn’t think he’ll ever not think that. He could just imagine God sending him down in the form of a freckled 5 year old kid who’s left front tooth was missing, stick in hand, though if he was asked that was his sword, determined to protect him. Roman always referred to their meeting as fate, a sort of destiny. Patton found himself agreeing. 

The house creaked when he stepped back inside. The wailing only stopped when he was out the front door, phone in hand. The text he’d sent was met with an almost immediate response, a confirmation. With that, Patton got in his car and drove one street over. Roman was already standing on the curb when he got there. 

“Did you have another freaky sixth sense moment?” Patton asked as Roman sat in the passenger's seat. 

“I did,” Roman said with a grin, “Woke up in a start knowing you would be needing me.” Patton never knew if Roman was telling the truth. He never asked. The short ride to the park was made in silence. Patton parked the car and climbed out, jumping into the back. Roman quickly followed. They lied on their backs, facing the too open sky. The small blanket that covered the bed of the truck only took away some of the uncomfortable ridges of the trunk. 

“So what’s on your mind, Pat?” Roman’s voice was softer than usual, a certain reservedness only used with his friends. 

“How do I come out when I already know it’s going to end badly?” Patton asked, getting straight to the point. There was no use beating around the bush. 

“You don’t need to come out.” 

“I’m sick of not being able to be my true self, whoever that is,” Patton’s voice could only be described as tired, “I need to be able to live as myself to figure out who I am. I’m almost an adult, Roman and I don’t even know who I am yet.” 

“You will never just be one person,” Roman laid his hand out, palm faced up. An invitation. Patton took it. “You’re always changing and growing.” 

“How can I grow when the things I need to sustain myself are being taken away from me?” Patton squeezed Roman’s hand, “They haven’t given me the room to be my own person. I’m outgrowing the room they gave me and they can’t see that. That room was never meant for me.” Roman took a second to respond. His thumb lazily traced over Patton’s knuckles. 

“They’ll never notice until you tell them. You need to do what will make you happy, Patton.” 

“What if I’m not made for happiness?” 

“There’s no reason for a what if,” Roman’s gentle tone felt like a comforting hand on his back, “I know you’re made for happiness. That’s what everybody is made for. Pain and sadness are necessary components to happiness. You’ve seen Inside Out.” Conversations were never heavy with Roman. He made things easier. 

“I’m scared.” Patton admitted. 

“You should be.” Roman’s reply would sound harsh to anybody else, but Patton understood. 

“If I need a place to stay-” 

“You don’t even need to ask, Puffball,” Roman was smiling, “You’ve heard it from each of us, our house is your house.” Patton knew that, but this could be messy and he could need a permanent place to live. 

“I’ve already told Mama you might need a place to live whenever you decide to come out. She’s more than happy to let you stay with us.” Roman said, sensing Patton’s hesitation. 

“I couldn’t be more thankful.” 

“You’re like a son to her. Probably her favorite.” Roman said with a laugh. Patton chuckled. They laid in silence for a few minutes. It was peaceful and the grounding weight of Roman’s hand in his made it easier for Patton to breathe. 

“When are you gonna do it?” Roman asked. 

“Tomorrow,” Patton responded, much to Roman’s surprise, “I’ll keep putting it off if I don’t.” Patton explained. 

“That makes sense.” There’s a pause before he speaks again, “Please be careful.” He moved their intertwined hands to his chest, holding Patton’s hand protectively. 

“I’ll try my best.” Patton responded. 

Maybe God would never give a direct answer to Patton. He didn’t mind, not really, because he had Roman and his calloused hands and his soft words. Maybe this was God’s way of answering him.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Patton’s hands couldn’t stop shaking. He’d felt nauseous all day. But he knew what needed to be done and today had to be the day. Patton made his way to the small dining table, setting out plates and utensils as his mother had asked. He took his seat shortly after. He looked to the painting of Jesus that hung in front of him. He said a quick prayer. 

“How was your day?” Patton directed this question at his father. 

“Work was usual.” He answered. The response was too short, his dad was already in a bad mood. That was less than ideal. The dinner was eaten in silence. That was commonplace, conversation hadn’t been easy with his parents lately. Patton took their dishes to the kitchen and cleaned them as quickly as he could. 

“Can I talk to you guys?” Patton asked once he’d stepped into the living room where his parents had migrated. 

“Of course, sweetheart.” His mom muted the TV and suddenly Patton felt so small. His parents stared at him expectedly. He took in a deep breath. 

“I know this is going to be hard to hear,” His eyes were focused on his fidgeting hands, “But you need to know. I’m gay.” Patton knew that wasn’t the full truth. He was bisexual but that gave too much hope for Patton’s parents to hold onto. His voice was low, almost a rumble. The silence stretched on for what could have been days, weeks, years. Patton decided on years. His dad stood up from the couch. He watched his mom and dad have a conversation with their eyes. Finally, he looked at Patton, expression a mix of anger, disgust, and, mostly, disappointment. 

“I want you out of my house within the hour.” His voice was cold and tight. Patton knew this was a possibility, he always thought that’s how it would end and he thought he’d accepted it. But now it was happening and he was angry. Because this was his dad. They had gone fishing once a month, every month since he was 10. He was always humoring Patton’s dad jokes and even adding some of his own. He had taught him how to ride a bike and then how to drive. He’d always been so patient. 

“So that’s it?” Patton asked incredulously, “16 years of being your son and suddenly that’s all thrown out the window?” Patton’s voice shook but the anger was still clear. And maybe even he could hear how broken he sounded. 

“I didn’t raise you to be like that, Patton. You’re no son of mine.” His dad’s voice held a malice Patton had never heard before. Patton looked at his mom, eyes pleading.

“You heard him, Patton. Don’t make things difficult.” His mom had always agreed with his dad. They were good together, there wasn’t a doubt in Patton’s mind that they were made for each other. He looks at the woman who had taught him to read. She was always quiet and reserved, nothing quite like himself. She always talked about the importance of words, how the words he said would affect the people he spoke them to. She had taught him to always be kind. 

“I guess kindness has its limits, huh?” Patton mostly mumbled the phrase but his parents still heard it. 

“We are being generous,” His dad practically spat out the words, “I’d have you shipped out to one of those conversion areas but that doesn’t take away the sin.” 

“God still loves me.” Patton said. 

“God may love despite the sin, but I am not God, Patton.” With that, his dad left the room. Patton was shaking again. He could feel his eyes tear up but he willed himself not to cry. He gave a final glance to his mother before disappearing to his room. He already had his clothes packed. They had already been tucked away in a suitcase for two days. He shoved his laptop and other electronics into a backpack. Patton didn’t have much, a reflection of his family’s wealth. He didn’t mind and at the moment it seemed like a blessing. He took out his phone and sent a text to Roman saying he would be staying with him. He left his house with two backpacks and one suitcase. His mother stood on the porch. 

“We do not want you to come back.” She said, “And even though I am angry and disgusted, I want you to be safe.” His heart ached. His parents were never evil, he knew this, no matter how upset he was. 

“I’m staying with a friend.” Was his response. She nodded. Patton took that as his cue to leave and walked to his truck, shoving his things in the back seat. 

“Patton.” He looked at his mom. “I know what your father said but you will always be our child. God gave us the responsibility of taking care of you, but I do not think we are capable of handling…: She paused, a flash of disgust graced her face, “Your situation. I think we both know it’s better for you to not be under our roof.” He nodded. She turned and opened the door to the house and paused. She looked back at Patton. “God may love you in spite of your lifestyle but always remember that you do not know God, Patton.” And with that she entered the house and closed the door. 

Patton was parked outside Roman’s house shortly after. His truck was turned off but he still sat in there. His hands were gripped to the steering wheel. He could feel his breathing become more shallow. He was shaking again. Suddenly, he couldn’t breath. Tears were welling up in his eyes and as they started to descend down his face he felt something in him break. He curled in on himself, arms thrown over the steering wheel, forehead resting against its leather. He didn’t remember when he’d started screaming but by the way his throat scratched he knew it had to have been for a while. He couldn’t stop himself and he didn’t know how much he wanted to. Maybe he should be feeling like this. His own parents had just kicked him out and used his own God against him. He could hear himself calling for his mom, which he knew was no use. It was a habit, he had always been able to call for his mom if he was hurting. But she’d just let him leave. And he didn’t understand what she’d said and the thought of those being the last words she’d ever say to him made him sob even louder. 

His car door opened and he saw a familiar face. Olive skin and freckles, deep, brown eyes, perfect teeth. Roman was familiar. He was vaguely aware he was having a panic attack. Roman was instructing him to take in deep breaths. He tried his best but he kept messing up. But Roman was patient. Like his dad. And Patton needed to stop thinking of them. After a few minutes, Patton had calmed down enough to gather up his bags and walk into the house. Roman’s mom stood in the living room, water and medication in hand. She walked over to him and placed both items in his hands. 

“The aspirin will help the eventual headache.” She spoke softly, kindly. She rubbed his arm before disappearing into her own room. Patton was led to Roman’s room, which would be doubling as Patton’s. He set down his things next to an air mattress that already had a blanket lying on it. 

“Mama said we’ll get you a bed as soon as you’re feeling ok to go out.” Roman said, sitting on his own bed. Patton couldn’t help feeling like he was intruding. 

“Thank you.” His voice was hoarse. He took the aspirin and downed the whole cup of water. 

“Come lay down here,” Roman patted his bed, “I’ll put on Winnie the Pooh and you can try to relax.” Patton would always be amazed at Roman’s ability to know exactly what he needed. He crawled into Roman’s bed, wrapped in the blanket that had been on the air mattress. Roman connected his computer to the small TV that sat at the end of his bed and played Pooh’s Grand Adventure. He joined Patton on the bed and wrapped his arms around him. They stayed like that the entire movie. Roman made jokes here and there and Patton could only manage a quick chuckle. But by the end of it, he felt a little better. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Roman asked as the credits played. 

“There’s not much to say,” Patton’s voice was barely above a whisper, “They kicked me out. My dad told me I’m not his son and my mom told me otherwise while also implying that God’s love for me was conditional.” Patton knew he wasn’t going to cry again, he’d already let it all out, but his voice was weak when he spoke and he sounded near tears. 

“Well she’s just not right.” Roman said. Patton tilted his head. Roman brushed Patton’s hair out of his face and kept his hand rested on his cheek as he talked, “From what I know of God he will love you no matter what. That’s what’s so special about God, he holds unconditional love for his children.” Patton knew Roman wasn’t good with religion, it hadn’t been a part of his life for many years. But he was right and deep down Patton knew he was. 

“Patton,” Roman spoke again, “I love you no matter what, and I know it’s different because I’m your friend, but you mean the world to me. Your parents are assholes for doing this to you. Allow yourself to be angry and upset. You don’t have to pretend to be happy.” Roman held Patton’s head to his chest and tangled his hand into his hair. 

“You know me well.” Patton weakly responded. 

“And knowing you has been one of the best things to happen to me.” Roman said and placed his head on top of Patton’s. Voices from the TV could be heard coming from Remus’s room next door, and if Patton listened closely he could hear Roman’s mom getting ready for her night shift. It was another average day in the house, it was all so familiar. 

“I think I may be home.” Patton whispered, as if saying it too loud would make it not true. 

“I think you may be, too.” Roman said. 

That night, Patton slept in Roman’s bed. It felt more like a sleepover that way. Patton knew things would take getting used to, but he knew he’d be able to adjust. Roman had always been a home and Patton took residence the moment they met eyes at the age of 5 years old. Guardian angel, fate, destiny, Roman, home; it was all the same to Patton. And maybe Patton couldn’t talk to God, maybe he would only be left with unanswered questions, but being held in Roman’s arms felt an awful lot like God was talking to him in that moment. 

“It's okay.” He seemed to say and who was Patton to argue with God. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> the first installment of my hs au ! this takes place their junior year. the rest of the au isn't gonna be this angsty ! being gay and religious is a very interesting experience esp when youre raised in a catholic household. was i projecting on to patton ? a little bit.  
> i hope yall have a beautiful day/afternoon/night, drink some water, and stay safe <3  
> tumblr: ssidesblog


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